Seventh Heaven
by Anthey Oom
Summary: I forgive everything about you. I shall become your god. This is your heaven, so if you die, I will kill you.Finished
1. Bit of Life

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Wild Adapter. I'd even settle for EC. But I don't. They belong to Minekura.

**Summary:** A theoretical outlook on some aspects of Wild Adapter. My latest hypothesis on where the story might be headed - this one's gonna be quite a few chapters long, so be prepared.

**Warnings: **Spoilers for WA, of course. Also, this is a BL manga, so expect there to be boy's love in this, though I think it's safe to say this chapter doesn't have anything that overt. You all are NOT gonna be happy with me at the end of all this - just a warning.

**Comments: **This is set after everything else is, so assume Kubo-chan's no longer being held by the police and all that stuff - it spawned from one of those evil moments of realization that causes your face to drain of blood and pale. I was happily listening to the second drama disk in preparation for my next chapter of translation while on a plane to visit my significant other and got out the book to check a line, ended up reading along with the dialog on the disk, and ran into something that just clicked. Then after a bout of frantic flipping through the 3 volumes that I have, the realization set in, and I jotted it all down in a notebook. It originally stemmed from an idea I've had toying around in my head for a few weeks, and it's utterly turned into something devistatingly more morbid and depressing. So, now I'll subject you all to it. Don't you just love me?

**Seventh Heaven Chapter 1 - Bit of Life**

The sound of the door sliding open broke the monotonous silence in the store. Kou-san looked up from the counter he was polishing with a slight smile.

"Hiya" The familiar greeting flowed across the store, the eternal ritual of words.

"Welcome" The customary response rippled back, a routine tide of verbal tradition smoothing into harmonic redundancy.

The shop was no different than yesterday, or the day before. Or last week, even. Though days pass and the world flowed on, the appearance of this one small place remained the same. The Berlin wall had fallen and still the dust layer on the window display went unheeded. No new items like the ones every three weeks at the convenience store. Only the bitter scent of medicinal herbs, mingled with tiger balm and the faint, acrid trace of gunpowder. Stagnant with a trace of malignancy, a placid surface with deep currents stronger than the undertow of the ocean.

"Is Tokito-kun not with you today, Kubota-kun?" Kou-san's voice held the hint of surprise.

"New game." Kubota spoke with a shrug, "Came out last night."

"Ah, he's still asleep then. Please give my apologies if my call this morning woke him up." Kou-san's voice never wavered from his polite, neutral tone.

"It's fine, it's fine." Kubota waved a hand to stave off the apology. "He wasn't disturbed. I doubt an explosion could have woken him."

Kou-san smiled softly at that and then rummaged below the counter preemptively at the question that he knew was coming.

"And... this delivery?" Kubota asked as the bag was brought out.

"Medicines. It seems this particular customer of mine has been a little delinquent on their tab. I have tried to be understanding, but one can only delay payments for so long..." Kou-san sighed softly.

Kubota glanced into the bag as he took it from Kou-san and clucked his tongue. "Your generosity has limits, as always," he observed, his voice with undertones of regret. "Then, I will expect a call this afternoon."

"Probably," Kou-san agreed, "Those incidents have begun to be a little more predictable, all in all."

"To one with knowledge, the future is clear? Or something." The corner of Kubota's lips curved up in a twist.

"Or something. Please, send my regards to Tokito-kun."

"Will you not give him those yourself, later?" Kubota's voice held slight amusement, as if his words were a joke that only the person across the counter from him would understand.

"True. Perhaps I will wait." Kou-san's voice shared the amusement with a touch of fondness, "At any rate, thank you for always allowing me to rely on you, Kubota-kun."

"No worries." The black cloth of the trench coat billowed out as the shape turned, business concluded.

The sound of the door gliding shut again echoed into the street, a dam of fused rocks, heated and molded into a manmade form, segmenting off this little pool from the river of society.

* * *

"_Minoru... come here..."_

"_No... Stay away..."_

"_Don't be afraid... You will always belong only to me..."_

"_Stop it! I don't... Let go!!"_

_The black, looming shape before me morphed into a clearer form, one I recognized easily, one I knew so well._

"_Tokito... Come here..."_

_The lights faded and I was in darkness. Nothing. Gray to black to deeper black of eternity. Then a golden spark spoke, a voice familiar yet seething with malice._

"_Kubota-kun is scared. Everything that has come out of his mouth lately has been lies, because in those sort of fictitious things he has come to live. More than anything else, that which he doesn't believe is himself. _

_Therefore, for certain..._

_If it's truth, Tokito-kun..._

_Isn't it you that holds everything?"_

I shot up in bed, a half-cry escaping my lips, panting for breath.

"Ah, you're awake" His soft voice greeted me from across the room. He was sitting at the computer desk, this month's issue of that one mahjong magazine in hand. Slowly he closed it, marking his place with one of those annoying paper inserts that seemed to always fall out when you held the magazine by the spine, no matter how many times you thought you had cleared them all out. "Bad dream?"

"Yeah." I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the memories from my vision, only succeeding in dislodging the sleep rocks that rested in the corners. "I probably won't remember it for long. What time is it?"

"Half past five." He replied, glancing at the clock at the bedside table. "Evening. You slept through the day."

Stretching my muscles, I was slightly pleased our conversation was so predictable. As always, he did not question what the dreams were about, only accepting my words about forgetting them. At first, I _would_ forget about them. Only the terror I had felt would remain. Lately, I'd been able to remember more and more of them, bit and pieces and the sound of voices washing over me, and the feeling that I didn't want Kubo-chan to know. Like when my hand hurt. Something inside of me knew without a doubt that he already knew. If I said it out loud, it would make it real. I didn't want them to become real. "How long have you been awake?" I asked as I took the glass from the bedside table, drinking the water in a few large gulps.

"A few hours. The trash collectors woke me up this morning." He replied smoothly, and then asked, "Hungry? I could heat up some of the curry from last night..."

"Curry for breakfast? Ugh, no." I made a face of displeasure, pointedly not emphasizing that I was tired of curry. Kubo-chan probably had curry this morning. He was weird like that, able to eat the same thing day in and day out. Plus, he _liked_ curry.

"Suit yourself," his voice was neutral as he turned back to his magazine in dismissal. If it wasn't curry, I'd have to get it myself. Sighing, I dragged myself out of bed.

* * *

"Tokito, answer the phone." Kubo-chan's voice called from the kitchen, surprising me and making me lose the game I was playing. Tossing the controller down on the ground, I made a noise of discontentment. I hadn't even heard the phone ringing. Kubo-chan must have amazing ears, to hear it over the video game.

"Yeah, yeah. Hello?" The phone was less than a meter away from me; I only had to lean over and stretch to pick it up.

"Ah, Tokito-kun. It's been a while, hasn't it? I trust you have been doing well?" That sickly sweet voice came over the line, filling the pit of my stomach with disgust. It wasn't that I didn't like the quack. He just reminded me that there was so much I didn't know or couldn't remember. He had a way of looking at me that spoke volumes, most written in some language I didn't know. I hated reading.

"I'll get Kubo-chan." I immediately replied, and before he had the chance to respond, I had the phone held out at arms length before me and was heading for the kitchen. "Kubo-chan! It's for you."

Kubo-chan looked up from the dishes he was doing and slowly rinsed and dried his hands. He was taking his time while I was standing there, waving the phone towards him, impatient for him to take it. He didn't seem surprised when he did take it and found that it was the quack. We had just done a delivery yesterday, yet it was almost like Kubo-chan had expected the call. He turned back to the dishes as he spoke.

I got a soda out of the fridge and then headed back to the game. I hoped it wasn't important - I had almost managed to pass the fifth stage on the game I was playing and if we had to go out, I would have to wait until later tonight. Then it'd be late, and I would have to go to bed sometime before two am because of school tomorrow. Sometimes I wish something would happen on Sunday, and they'd cancel school. School always seemed so unimportant, and no matter how hard I tried I could never get as good of grades as Kubo-chan did. _He_ didn't have to study. He'd just sit in class reading his magazine or whatever it was he did, and then borrow my notes, and poof, perfect score on the test. No matter how much I looked at my own notes, I'd still fail the tests. I don't know why I bothered trying.

I _almost_ had it this time, almost beat this stage. But then just as I was _this_ close to killing the final boss, Kubo-chan walked in and said, "Get ready. We're going out." I looked up in surprise and in that split second the boss fired a missile at me and _boom_ game over no save. Growling, I tossed the controller to the ground and went to go get my shoes on.

"What's up?" I called as I was getting socks from the bedroom, and as I padded into the hallway pulling my coat on, Kubo-chan looked up from the doorway, where he was tying his shoes.

"Kou-san gave me an address." He replied, just as helpful as ever. Luckily, I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about, and lifted my right hand slightly, a questioning look on my face. At his nod, I hurried a bit. Kubo-chan was already out of the apartment and in the hallway by the time I had my shoes on and sloppily tied. I let the door slam behind us a little harder than I had intended, but I ignored the look Kubo-chan gave me. Sure, I was pissed. But this was a little more important to me than the game. I flexed my right hand in my jacket pocket, feeling the leather slide across the fur that was hidden underneath, as we headed out.

(to be continued)


	2. Blood, Sweat, No Tears

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Wild Adapter. I'd even settle for EC. But I don't. They belong to Minekura.

**Summary:** A theoretical outlook on some aspects of Wild Adapter. My latest hypothesis on where the story might be headed - this one's gonna be quite a few chapters long, so be prepared.

**Warnings: **Spoilers for WA, of course. Also, this is a BL manga, so expect there to be boy's love in this- You all are NOT gonna be happy with me at the end of all this - just a warning.

**Comments: **My beta's out of town, so I didn't have anyone to bounce this off of before I published. My apologies, and please, if you see any glaring errors or the like, let me know... thanks for reviews to Miffle, Gokuu, and C.T Saiyukily Twisted. I greatly appreciate the support, and hope that this chapter is as well received as the last.

**Seventh Heaven Chapter 2 - Blood, Sweat, No Tears**

Nothing's worse then spending the one single day off a week by going to school. I really didn't want to be here. If Kubo-chan had told me _this_ was where we were going, I would have stayed at home. I couldn't even call it ironic.

Kubo-chan was in there, talking to Matsumoto and Tachibana and fag boy Igarashi-sensei and Ossan. I was over here, in the hallway, trying with all my might to pretend I was anywhere but at school on a Sunday. Boy had everyone seemed surprised when we showed up. I guess it wasn't really common knowledge yet, but Kou-san knows everything, though I'd never tell them that. Kubo-chan had some excuse ready about how I had forgotten my notes for the test tomorrow in my desk and only realized tonight when I went to study, Ossan just gave me one of _those_ looks when Kubo-chan said that - he knew better than to think I'd study, let alone leave my notes in the classroom. Kubo-chan always borrows them, so I always take them home with me.

It seemed kinda weird. What the hell was the kid doing at school, let alone doing drugs here? It was probably W.A, he looked wolf man enough to convince me of that. I didn't even know the guy, and he was even more unrecognizable now. Supposively he was some quiet dude that hung out in the back of the class, didn't really socialize with many people. Igarashi-sensei was saying how it was some great loss or some shit, but that's probably only because he hadn't molested this kid yet. Fucking pervert.

The only thing that made this all not quite so bad was the fact that at least Fujiwara wasn't here. Since Ossan was here, Igarashi-sensei kept his hands to himself, but Fujiwara wouldn't have had any qualms. The murmurs had died down in the room, and I heard Ossan's partner taking pictures of the corpse. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and Ossan was there, handing me a can of tea. "Hey, Toki-boy. I always knew you had it in you to study, showing up on a Sunday like this."

Snatching the can away from him and giving him a warm glare, I was just happy he hadn't driven his knuckle into the top of my head. I guess he has to be professional or something, what with all the people around. "Well? What's it look like?" I asked, as Kubo-chan came out to stand next to us.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, unless you count the fact that this was the youngest case we've seen yet, though only by a few months," he replied, lighting up. I didn't have to look at Matsumoto and Tachibana to know that they were twitching to ask him not to smoke in the school building. It was funny, in a way. They acted all pompous and powerful and shit, and in walks a detective investigating a death, and wham, they're put in their place. I couldn't help but grin. I've got nothing against those two, really, as long as they stayed over there. Away from Kubo-chan. Especially Matsumoto. Not that I'm jealous or anything, but... it's safer that way.

"Did you find any..." I clenched my fist, unable to finish my question. I already knew what the answer would be, just like the past god-knew-how-many times we had shown up at a place like this.

"Nope, nothing. Seems he only had the dose he took." Ossan replied, leaning against the wall, ashing his cigarette onto the newly-waxed linoleum. At that point, Kubo-chan lit up too, and I made my excuses and headed outside. Standing around there wasn't gonna do any good, and knowing Matsumoto he'd ask me to clean the classroom afterwards. And probably call in Fujiwara to help out.

* * *

Once the coroner's office had been called in and they were dealing with the corpse, Makoto-kun and I headed out of the school, leaving New Rice to deal with the paperwork. I found it vaguely amusing teasing those kids, the ones playing at being rulers in a school that really didn't need any rulers, but I figured if I did any more, the tall one would start to retaliate. Good kids, both of them, but the tall one had a dangerous gleam in his eye when it came to the one who claimed to be student council president.

We were halfway through the corridors to the front door of the school before I spoke. "It's a shame, really. A kid, that young." I kept my eyes ahead of me, not seeming to pay any attention to Makoto's reactions.

Makoto shrugged. "Perhaps he should have been a little more careful about what he was getting involved in." He said neutrally. "In a world like this, it doesn't pay to have debts."

I nodded. Just as I had thought. Patting him on the shoulder as we exited the front door, I simply replied, "You know what I always tell you. I won't bother repeating it."

Toki-boy was out there waiting. Hence, Makoto gave me a half-smile, and nodded before heading over to the little cat. I myself simply lit a cigarette, leaning against the wall of the school to wait.

It was ironic, really, the dark miasma of this city. No matter how black the deepest shadows seemed, you could still find a pinpoint of light in the darkness. Night could come, and the ashen clouds above could hide the stars, yet the stars of the ground would simply take their place, glittering beacons in the night. No need for the moon, no need for the reflected illumination of the sun, the remembrance of the evening long past. You couldn't escape it. The glow followed you, reassuring you of the presence of humanity and at the same time smothering you with it, making you wonder if you longed for the darkness or the light.

As I watched them walk away, the thought occurred to me that the same could be said of lies and truth. But as for which was truth and which was lies, it didn't really matter, now did it?

* * *

"They'll call off school tomorrow." Kubo-chan finally spoke. We were already almost home. I didn't really feel like talking.

"Great." I spit the word out and of course he already knew I was angry. Tonight was such a waste. He touched my arm, but I shrugged his hand off. I didn't want an apology, especially not like that and not in public.

He kept his hands to himself the rest of the way home. That was fine with me; my arm still burned from his touch. He even stopped at the local convenience store and bought me some snickers, but I still wasn't gonna calm down just like that. I was frustrated. It seemed like it had been ages since I started trying to figure out what was up with me, and I still hadn't learned anything new.

When we got back to the apartment, I pointedly sat myself down in front of the tv and started up the game again. Kubo-chan could go rot for all I cared, and since we had no school tomorrow, I was gonna play my game until I fell asleep there. Just as I expected, he simply sat down on the couch, not a word, and watched. I kept up my rebellion for a few hours, until I was so tired that I was dying to the little enemies at the start of the missions.

I felt groggy as Kubo-chan lead me into the bedroom and helped me undress. The bed was cold, but Kubo-chan was warm, and in the half-dream of exhaustion I could forget all of my anger and frustration. I didn't even protest when his lips first touched mine, and after that nothing else really mattered.


	3. Scarface Groove Pt 2

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Wild Adapter. I'd even settle for EC. But I don't. They belong to Minekura.

**Summary:** A theoretical outlook on some aspects of Wild Adapter. My latest hypothesis on where the story might be headed - this one's gonna be quite a few chapters long, so be prepared.

**Warnings: **Spoilers for WA, of course. Also, this is a BL manga, so expect there to be boy's love in this- You all are NOT gonna be happy with me at the end of all this - just a warning.

**Comments: **Whoa, I'm a slacker. Well, actually, the problem is the opposite. Going back to school wasn't so bad, but as a warning, online classes eat a lot of time in busy-work. Anyhow, I apologize for how long this took me to write. Expect the next chapter a little sooner than this one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, it's helped me keep going on this (my inner characters have been REALLY balking, since they know where I'm going)

**Seventh Heaven Chapter 3 – Scarface Groove Pt. 2**

_Pururururu_

_Pururururu_

I buried my head beneath the pillow, trying to block out the sound that woke me up.

_Pururururu_

"Kubo-chan!" I yelled underneath the pillow, "Get the phone!" The bed beside me was empty, so I knew he had to be awake and probably out smoking on the balcony.

_Pururururu_

"Ah, mou!" I dragged myself out of bed. It was way too early to be getting up; I must have been up until at least 4 playing the new game I got yesterday. Plodding into the main room, I snagged the phone off of the cradle. "What?" I asked, answering it. Glancing out toward the balcony, I saw that it was empty. Kubo-chan wasn't there.

"Ah, Tokki! I'm glad I got you. It would have been difficult to explain why I was calling, if Kubotcha had answered…" Takizawa's ever cheerful voice came over the line.

That voice woke me up a little. I had thought maybe it would be the quack, or Ossan or someone from school. Not a call for me. Carrying the handset with me, I glanced into the kitchen, and then went down the hall to check the bathroom. The apartment was empty.

"Hello? You still there, Tokki?" My prolongued silence must have made him think I hung up.

"Yeah. Did you find out anything?" I wasn't used to this sort of thing; the hairs on the back of my neck were sticking up. Any second now I expected Kubo-chan to walk in and ask who it was or what we were talking about.

"Yeah. You wanna come over for breakfast or something? This isn't exactly something I should tell over the phone…" That made the hairs on my arms join the ones on my neck. Had to be something serious, for Takizawa not to just blurt it out.

A short conversation later, I hung up. Scratching out a sloppy note that I left on the counter, I hurried out the door. The whole while I was heading out of the apartment and down to the subway station, my half-awake eyes would catch sight of a flutter of a black trench, and terror would grip my heart. Luckily, it was nothing, though I didn't breath a sigh of relief until I had boarded the subway headed to Takizawa's place.

* * *

"Well?" I asked around a mouth full of rice. Takizawa had refused to say anything until I had eaten. I was almost done polishing off the breakfast he had served.

"I looked into it like you asked, but most of what I found you already know." Takizawa said as he sat down across the table from me, having just refilled his coffee. "There wasn't very much I could find about Kubotcha's past than what's on public records. Criminal records, stuff like that." He sipped at his coffee.

Why'd he call me here, then? "So…"

Cutting me off, he continued. "But, I did find some interesting rumors about that chinese herbalist you mentioned he worked for…"

I glanced up at that; that caught my interest. I've always said that there was something weird about that quack. I know he helped me, and he's always worrying about me and all, but… Sometimes when he asks me about my hand I get the feeling he knows more than he's telling. Maybe it's just me worrying too much, but it really seems that way to me.

"I followed the rumors on the street and found that he might be involved in more than just the store. Nothing's certain, but I found possible leads into a small pharmaceutical company… There weren't many details, but a year or two ago the company was under investigation, something about using human test subjects. The company disbanded before any evidence could be discovered. It was a small company, consisting of only a few people, but I did manage to find a picture of their staff." He slid a photo across the table towards me.

A group of people in lab coats stared back at me from the table. I couldn't swallow. It was like my throat had locked up, refusing to take the food I had chewed in my mouth. The photo was a little blurred, printed off like it had come from the internet. You couldn't really tell if the long-haired one was Kou-san or not, but the one next to him, in the second row… My heart was beating fast and I forced myself to look away just so I could get the rice out of my mouth.

"Looks a lot like Kubotcha, doesn't it?" Takizawa said cheerfully, pointing. The rice was chalk as it went down. I stared at my mug as I swallowed some coffee to clear it out. "Name's listed as Akira. I couldn't find a last name."

The chalk that was once rice weighed heavily in my stomach. I couldn't talk either, and my head was filled with echoes of that name. How often had I woken up with that name on my lips? It was as if the sands of time had stopped, only for me.

But not for Takizawa. Leaning back, he studied me, a curious look on his face. I wondered briefly what I must look like. His voice shattered the illusions of time.

"That's all. Is there some connection between…" He began hesitantly, but I interrupted him.

"Thanks, Takizawa. I'll call you later." Rising, I grabbed my coat and the picture, and bolted out the door before he could get a word in edgewise.

TBC….


	4. Jouyatou

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned Wild Adapter. I'd even settle for EC. But I don't. They belong to Minekura.

**Summary:** A theoretical outlook on some aspects of Wild Adapter. My latest hypothesis on where the story might be headed – The conclusion.

**Warnings: **Spoilers for WA, of course. Also, this is a BL manga, so expect there to be boy's love in this, though I think it's safe to say this chapter doesn't have anything that overt. You all are NOT gonna be happy with me at the end of all this - just a warning.

**Seventh Heaven Chapter 4 – Jouyatou**

The rain had started by the time I finished my delivery. It had been threatening all morning, and finally with a crash of thunder that made me look to the street expecting an accident, it began to fall. A silver sheet, shimmering in the dim light, the blur of liquid occluding my glasses. I took them off and slipped them into a pocket of my trench. No depth perception and blurred shapes were easier to deal with, in a storm like this.

The water soon rushed like a river in the gutters, and pools were beginning to form on the darkened pavement at the low points. Cars drove by slowly, cautious in the torrent, yet still managing to splash murky water onto my feet and lower legs. Thoughts of the warmth of the apartment crossed my mind, and I picked up my step slightly. I was quite a ways away, and the chill of the rain had already soaked its way through my trench and reached my skin.

Tokito would probably still be asleep, curled up in a little ball underneath the covers. This thought brought a slight smile to my lips, a pale amusement in comparison to the way days like today normally made me feel. I tried not to think about it, the silence that enveloped me and the memories that surfaced with the rain. There is a taste that comes with the rain, the soft scent of ozone created by the flashes of lightning, metallic and crimson and flowing. Bringing back memories that slept in my heart these days, drugged and ignored by the presence of the now, the warmth of a stray cat.

Stopping at the corner, I drew out a damp cigarette and spent a moment struggling to light it. Finally my lighter caught, and I fought the rain that wanted to extinguish the small, red ember.

* * *

Fucking weather. Why the hell did it have to rain like this? Couldn't it at least have the decency to wait until I had gotten home? I was soaked, a few blocks from home still, and it was _fucking cold!_ The apartment would probably be cold, too, since I hadn't thought to turn on the heater. Like I knew it was going to rain. Kubo-chan's the one who reads the paper and watches the news, not me. 

I glared at the rain around me. If it had been human, it would have apologized and disappeared from my presence for at least a week. People know better than to mess with me when I'm in this sort of mood. But it had no effect on the rain. I still glared at it, though. Just a few more blocks, and then I'd be back at the apartment.

As I neared the door to the building, a familiar figure drew close from the other side. My footsteps slowed to a halt of their own accord. Seeing the familiar movements, knowing immediately who it was, my anger vanished, replaced by a numbness with overtones of something uncomfortable that I didn't want to think about. _I have to run away_. The thought surged up, but I bit my lip and waited.

"Nice weather, don't you think?" He asked as he got to me, a slight smile playing on his lips against the gloom that was in his eyes. His glasses were off but I knew he knew me. He always did, regardless of whether he had his glasses or if it was dark. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words, and claws tore at my heart. Before I could let the uncertainty stop me, I shoved my hand into the pocket of my jacket and shoved the crumpled paper that was there at him.

Taking it, his head cocked to the side slightly in curiousity and slight confusion, he slipped his glasses out of his pocket to look at it. Unfolding the wrinkles and examining the picture, he was silent for a moment. I never understood how people could say that a moment could last forever until now.

"Ah." Was all he said as he folded the picture back up and then held it back out to me.

"Don't say 'Ah'.." I snapped, a surge of irritation breaking the numbness. "What the hell is that?"

He took a draw on the dying cigarette in his mouth, and exhaled while dropping it to the ground. The hiss of the dying ember, and then he shrugged. "A picture?" I ground my teeth for a moment before he spoke again. "Looks like it was printed off the internet." His hand holding out the picture dropped back to his side when I didn't take it back.

"What I'm asking is, what's up with this company you were part of? Why didn't you tell me anything about it?" I spit out, knowing full and well what he would answer.

"You didn't ask." He said flatly, slightly shrugging his shoulders again.

"I'm asking now." And then I waited. I didn't care if we drowned in this rain, I would wait forever until he told me.

He studied me for a moment, taking in every detail of my stance like he does sometimes, as if his eyes were x-rays seeing through me to the bone. Then he sighed, and struggled for a moment to light another cigarette. The minute change in his stance instantly told me he was going to speak, and a blackness closed over my heart. I hated it when he made me feel like this, like I didn't know what would come tomorrow or the day afterward, like I didn't know where I was even though I was right there next to him.

Taking a deep draw, he exhaled, the fog of smoke dispersing almost instantly, obliterated by the falling drops. "Yeah. I worked for Kou-san back then. I've worked off and on for him for quite some time." He paused, and it seemed like his words were forced. Slow, as if he wasn't used to speaking. "We tested some drugs. Then we shut it all down."

Nothing I didn't know. And nothing that I wanted to know. "You…" The words didn't want to be asked, they wouldn't come out right like I wanted them to. But I had to know. "You're Akira-san?" I clenched my right hand into a fist, feeling the leather pull tight, staring at the pavement at my feet. I couldn't look at him as I waited for an answer.

He drew on his cigarette, fighting with the rain as the ember hissed and popped. I knew he was studying me again; I could feel his eyes. Finally, forced again, I heard his "Yeah."

Flashes of the bits of memory in dreams ran through my mind, and I found I was shaking, that my fists were clenched so tight that the glove had ripped and my nails had pressed into my palm. The trickles that I knew were blood were warm next to the trickles of the rain. I looked up at him, saw him, that shape that haunted my dreams so often. "Is that why you picked me up?" I spit out, anger seething in my voice.

His eyes matched mine, and a look of understanding settled onto his face. Letting his cigarette drop to the ground, he stepped forward, one hand reaching out, palm up and offered to me. "You will always belong only to me…" His whisper resonated in my ears, ringing like a bell as my vision faded, red and water and salt all mixed together in a wave of warmth and fury and the feel of tearing flesh.

* * *

It didn't hurt. That surprised me, as I fell to the cold pavement with the warmth rushing down my chest. It was like my feeling were reflected back at me, looking up into that familiar face that I knew so well. Shock and horror, realization at what he had done. I felt his hand slide out of the wound, a sensation that I had never imagined I'd feel but couldn't help but find interesting. A new experience, I suppose. I couldn't help but chuckle, even though it sounded more like a gurgle. There was pressure in my left chest when I drew breath in; he probably had punctured the lung. 

"Ku… Kubo-chan?" His face paled slightly as he looked disoriented, a sickly look crossing his face as he looked at his right hand as if for the first time. All of the anger that had driven him washed away like the stream of my blood that I could see draining into the gutter, streaming across the sidewalk bright crimson. It should have been black. It would have been right if it were black.

I turned my head back to his face, away from the sidewalk. In the end, it didn't really matter, that crimson. Nor did the heat, the burning that I felt, the slipperiness. Blood or viscera, it didn't matter. All that mattered were those arms, pulling me up, enveloping me. The heat of his chest. Everything was fading into a dye of pure black. A flash of memory of Komiya's unseeing eyes looking up at me. Is this what Tokito would see?

It seemed to take too much of my strength, to raise my hand, to find his cheek. But it was soft, as I knew it would be, and a sudden thought brought on a slight nausea in my chest. This would be the last time I'd feel this softness. The proverbial three weeks had passed, and it was time for another new item.

"Kubo-chan…" His voice was a sob and I knew he was crying. I never was able to cry, not like that. I never was able to feel, not like that. He taught me to feel. He taught me to live… He taught me to…

The warmth was beginning to fade and I knew it would be over soon. There was one sentence left unsaid for so long, too long. The cats I had buried couldn't say it when their time came, so I forced myself to say it for the cat that buried me.

"I loved you."

The blackness that I sank into was warm and salty, and smelled of Tokito.


End file.
